


Small Comforts, Winged Comforts

by rhythmickorbit



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alternate Pronouns, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Cuddling & Snuggling, DnD AU, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Implied Angst, Might be OOC, Multi, Nightmares, Not Beta Read, POV First Person, Present Tense, Prompt Fic, Romance, gnome!tailgate, harpy!whirl, implied magic, sorry fam its one of those, they all use she/her, they're lesbians harold, tiefling!cyclonus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-21 05:47:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19996852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhythmickorbit/pseuds/rhythmickorbit
Summary: Cyclonus, upon awakening from a half-remembered nightmare from her past, is greeted by two sleepy, extremely cuddly lovers. This is not a problem.





	Small Comforts, Winged Comforts

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “What I’ve always wanted.” This has something to do with that, I'm sure.

Warrior instincts die hard. It is never more evident to me, though, than when I am jolted awake by hazy, yet visceral images of people yelling, bodies falling, steel clanging. Old, half-forgotten orders flash through my mind, and I reach over my shoulder to unsheathe my great sword… which, of course, is not there. I am surrounded, naturally, but not by hostile knights and mages. Instead, I have a mass of sheets twisted around my body, and two figures on either side roused by my disturbance. A flash of guilt burns through my body as I look down at my hands, pale in the darkness, although they are so sullied by the blood of others.

“Cyc,” Whirl whines from my right, her indignant claws tangled in my hair. “I was having a  _ good dream _ for once. I shot a guy and he  _ stayed dead _ . You know how  _ rare _ that is for me?”

Tailgate, on her part, simply blinks up at me with her ever-tender eyes, her always-ready concern. My shoulders relax paradoxically from both presences, even as Whirl pulls her claws out of my hair in a not-so-tender manner.

“I thought I heard something,” I say.

“What did you think that you heard?” Tailgate adjusts her position and faces me, her legs crossed on the bed. “We can go check, if you want.”

“Probably just the neighbors, doing whatever the frag they do,” Whirl snarks, familiar but oh-so-irritating. I rub my temples and shake my head in a refusal.

“No. Memories are getting to me,” I say firmly. “I just want to sleep.”

“That ain’t happening for awhile,” Whirl grouses, and despite the darkness I can see her owl-like eye rolling in exasperation. “Besides the fact that I’m probably not getting a do-over with that shooting dream, you  _ never _ sleep after your…” she gestures with her claw. “Y’know. Swing, clash, pow.”

Before I can respond in kind, Tailgate pipes up. “Yeah,” she agrees, tugging at my arm. “Maybe we can relocate. That’s helped me, remember?” Her comforting smile is too soft to refuse. 

“I refuse to discomfort the two of you further,” I say.

“Nah,” Whirl says in her flippant way, hopping off of the bed as is her wont. “I say we bring  _ all _ of the blankets and go to the couch.” She wiggles her wings for emphasis as she turns on the lamp. 

“My vote rests with Whirl’s decision,” Tailgate nods, her voice betraying her tiredness. “You’ve been outvoted, Cyclonus!” Tailgate grasps my arm as she hops off of the bed, and, as usual, I’ve no choice but to follow her.

I am so easily swayed by a gnome and a harpy. Me, a battle-hardened soldier, the proud warrior, the feared tiefling and second to Galvatron, pulled from my slumber by a snarky turn of phrase and a soft tug of the arm. How my enemies would laugh to see me in this position, I think as I follow Tailgate through the hallway. I have to duck my head to keep my horns from slamming into the door frames, a mistake learned and marked dozens of times by scratches and scores on the tops of every single entrance and exit in this house. I think that the old me would be humiliated.

Despite that, I can’t find it in me to regret anything at all as I am lead to the couch, already covered in blankets. Most of these blankets are either covered in feathers, arranged in a nest-like fashion, or both. 

It amazes me how Whirl did that in the two seconds that she was out of the room.

Whirl, from her perch of the couch, flares her wings invitingly at the two of us. She isn’t normally so open about her affections, but the instincts of a tired bird seem to have taken over her usual reservations. I smile, despite myself.

Tailgate plops in one of the blanket-nests, immediately making herself comfortable and swaddling her small form in one. 

Primus. The two of them, looking at me expectantly, looking at me as if I am a  _ wanted  _ and  _ deserving  _ being-- I almost want to melt, let my tail curl.

I don’t. I remain strong as ever, and I sit with some dignity on the edge of the couch.

A blanket is thrown around my shoulders, and another across my lap. Long, pointy limbs--legs, arms, and wings-- wrap around me in an embrace, and the smaller presence next to me sprawls across my legs and grasps my hand with a tenderness that I do not deserve.

I can feel Whirl’s comforting coos burgeoning in her throat as she drapes over my back, and Tailgate’s soft touch as she idly plays with my hands.

The sound of battle is nowhere to be heard, the feeling of steel in my hands nowhere to be felt. Everything is skin and feathers and  _ comfort _ and I think about how I will surely spar Whirl tomorrow as thanks for her generosity tonight. Perhaps I will offer to accompany Tailgate on an errand, for once, and simply hold her hand.

Or, perhaps, this is simply enough.

I close my eyes, and let my tail curl.

**Author's Note:**

> Dang, Cyclonus, who let you have TWO gfs? Not fair man.
> 
> Okay, so I know that this is really unusual, but hear me out. Tiefling Cyclonus who once worked for a Duke of the Nine Hells... Whirl, a harpy who hires herself out as a merc... Tailgate, the gnome who is charged with cleaning the workshops of others...
> 
> They meet and fall in love. 
> 
> ...I might do more with this premise.
> 
> Apologies for the OOCness of this. I'm not especially used to the voices of these three yet-- this was just practice that I think turned out reasonably well?? I hope it's at least somewhat enjoyable, despite its obvious flaws.


End file.
